Friends and Family
by alynwa
Summary: Napoleon is missing and presumed dead. Illya can no longer rely on UNCLE to search. Challenging myself to write and publish one chapter at a time. Wish me luck!
1. Chapter 1

Illya sat at his desk with a cold cup of coffee in front of him and his head in his hands. It was, by his watch, 2:48PM. _It is almost time, _he thought glumly. _I do not want to do this. I do not know if I _can _do this. _He picked up the coffee to sip, looked at the contents and dropped it in the wastebasket next to his desk in disgust. Just then, there was a knock on the exterior of the pneumatic door. _Someone knows better than to just walk in unannounced. _"Go away!" he ordered, "Nothing will start without me. Tell them to wait!"

Instead of the sound of footfalls fading away, he heard the door swish open. Instantly enraged, his head snapped up to rip a new one for whoever had dared to disturb him. There standing before him was Mr. Waverly, leaning on a silver – headed walking stick and studying him quietly with those eyes that seemed to take in everything. "Sir!" Illya greeted him as he shot out of his chair to attention. "What may I do for you?"

The Old Man sighed audibly, "Mr. Kuryakin, what you may do is accompany me to the auditorium so that we can begin the memorial."

The Russian grabbed his jacket off the coat rack and put it on. "Sir, I do not think it is appropriate for me to attend…"

"Nonsense, Mr. Kuryakin! It would be most improper for the service to proceed without you; after all, Mr. Solo was your partner. I have already had Miss Rogers put it out on the office grapevine that you are far too distraught to speak. If word were to get out that you are refusing to accept your partner's death, I would have no choice but to order you to the Psychiatric Section and your credibility as Chief Enforcement Agent would disappear."

Illya closed his eyes in frustration. "Mr. Waverly, please, he is not _dead_. Let me continue to keep looking for him. I can…"

Mr. Waverly raised his hand and the blond immediately fell silent. The Old Man spoke kindly but, firmly. "Mr. Kuryakin, we have been through this: We sent search parties out to retrace his steps, alerted every intelligence agency we are allies with to be on the lookout for him. We have shaken down every mercenary, rogue spy, every free agent we could find and no one has any information on Mr. Solo. It's been four months; if he were alive, he would have contacted us by now. You know I thought of him as my heir apparent; I have had to accept he is gone. I suggest you do the same. All of Section Two is depending on you to lead them. If I have to replace you, morale will dip even lower."

Shoulders slumping in defeat, Illya replied, "Yes, sir."

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

The memorial service was an emotional affair. Napoleon Solo was a well – liked man by both the men and women of UNCLE. After Mr. Waverly delivered the eulogy, people were invited to share their memories of the man who had been Number One, Section Two for seven years.

Illya Kuryakin, his grieving partner and new CEA, sat stoically during the service listening to others remember the man he knew as his best friend and brother. April Dancer and Mark Slate stood together at the podium and shared their histories with Napoleon with the gathering. Mark stood behind April to provide physical and emotional support while she told of the encouragement she received from Napoleon when the burden of being the first female UNCLE Section Two agent threatened to overwhelm her. When she finished, Mark stepped up to speak about Napoleon's support and advice about how to deal with his female partner. "All that female companionship of his finally paid off," Mark said to the laughter of the assemblage. Afterward, both agents went to Illya to hug and kiss him; gestures he accepted from them in the spirit of the occasion.

They were the last people to speak before the service ended and Illya stood and accepted condolences, hugs, kisses and encouragement from the agents and support staff of UNCLE New York as they filed by on the way out of the room. Very shortly, the grapevine was going to hum with the news that Illya Kuryakin was so devastated by Napoleon's demise that he actually allowed any and all who approached him to physically comfort him.

Eventually, only he and Mr. Waverly remained in the auditorium. He looked at The Old Man and said firmly, "I will never give up on Napoleon; I will either prove he lives or will know what happened to him. But rest assured, Sir, I will neither shirk my duties and obligations to you nor to the organization."

In return, Mr. Waverly replied, "I have no doubt, Mr. Kuryakin but, for now, go home" before he turned and left Illya alone to ponder his situation. The Russian sat back down and scrubbed his face with his hands. He looked around the room at the pictures of Napoleon that had been placed on the walls for the memorial; many had been taken in offices throughout UNCLE. There were pictures of the two of them with Mark and April, Mr. Waverly; pictures of Napoleon with secretaries he had been dating at the time. His eyes lighted upon a picture of the two of them sitting at their desks, smiling at whoever was standing in the doorway taking the picture. _Marian took that with her new camera; I always liked it. _He strolled over and plucked it from the wall. _She did say I could have it._

Illya returned to his office and hung the picture above the file cabinets before he sat at his desk. He looked across at the empty seat that had not been occupied by his partner for months and shook his head sadly. _No point in staying here now; no one will contact me for anything. _He stood to get his coat and headed to Reception. He yanked his badge from his lapel and dropped in on the desk. He nodded to the woman there, not really seeing her at all before going through the door into Del Floria's. When the door swung closed behind him, the receptionist, Ronnie, called Millie in Translations to tell her that the Ice Prince was back to his normal, aloof self.

Illya used his key to enter Napoleon's penthouse. He had been coming here for weeks now. Technically, it was _his _penthouse as he was the beneficiary of the bulk of Napoleon's estate but, he felt no sense of ownership. He stayed there, in the guest room, to feel closer to his partner. He walked into the kitchen to fetch his vodka from the freezer. Pouring a tumbler full, he went into the living room and flopped onto the sofa without spilling a single drop.

After the first big swallow, he sipped the alcohol as he stared at the unlit fireplace until he reached a decision. Reaching for the phone, he thought _What good is money if you cannot use it? _He listened as the phone rang and was finally answered on the sixth ring.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Wolf. It is your brother – in – law, Illya."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

"Illya! How are you? It is such a pleasure to hear from you," Wolf Schmidt said enthusiastically. "I haven't heard from you in…what, seven months? Eunice and I were just talking about 'Eddie' and 'Navarre' day before yesterday."

Adalwolf Schmidt, the former THRUSH Central Committee member Ludwig Bowler, was the brother of the doomed woman Illya had fallen in love with and married unbeknownst to his partner and even Mr. Waverly.* He had moved from upstate New York to Ouray, Colorado a few years earlier.

Illya cleared his throat. "Yes," he responded, "it has been awhile since we have spoken and I am sorry to be calling because I need something but…I need money, Wolf, lots of it."

A soft chuckle came through the phone. "Isn't that interesting? You need money and you _have _money! Imagine that! Tell me to go to hell because it is none of my business but, may I ask what made you change your mind about accessing some of _your_ Swiss bank accounts?"

"It is a long story, Wolf."

"Eunice is back East for two weeks visiting family. There's no one here to disturb us. I have time. Tell me."

The Russian took another swig of his drink and began his tale. "Four months ago, Napoleon was sent to Algiers to intercept a scientist, Dr. Arnold Leopold, who we had reason to believe was about to sell his research to THRUSH. Intelligence could not ascertain exactly what he had developed but, they were certain that Dr. Leopold was working on some type of mind control. Whatever his method, it was apparently viable enough that it had piqued the interest of the Central Committee."

"Napoleon was able to locate and neutralize the THRUSH operative who was to meet with Dr, Leopold. He then assumed the identity of the operative and kept the rendezvous. He was able to convince the man that he was dealing with THRUSH and successfully obtained the prototype for the mind control pill and the research behind it by paying him with a phony account number to a bank account in the Cayman Islands."

"That was originally supposed to be the conclusion of the mission but instead of taking his leave, he and the doctor had dinner and drinks. After a bit too much to drink, Leopold confided to Napoleon that he had even more diabolical weapons under development in his lab. Napoleon decided that it would be better to bring Dr. Leopold into UNCLE for debriefing. During his last official check in to Mr. Waverly, he reported that he and Dr. Leopold were leaving Algiers heading to the extraction point in Bizerte, Tunisia."

Illya could hear Wolf opening a bottle of beer in the background "You said his 'last official check in' which means, unofficially, he checked in with you?"

The Russian smiled in spite of himself; Wolf knew how close the two men are. He had even questioned Napoleon about the nature of their relationship when he had followed Illya to Plattsburgh. "Yes, about two hours after he had spoken to Mr. Waverly. That is how I know what he did to acquire Dr. Leopold. The problem is…they never made it to the extraction point. Napoleon is missing, Wolf, as is Leopold."

"How long has it been, Illya?"

"More than four months. No contact, no sightings, nothing. It is like they fell off the face of the earth. The organization must continue so Mr. Waverly recently changed his status from MIA to 'Presumed Dead' and the search for him was discontinued. Once that was done, I was elevated to Chief Enforcement Agent and his will was executed; I am his sole heir. The memorial service was this afternoon."

"_Gott in himmel._ I am so sorry, Illya. Why did you not contact me sooner? And, UNCLE is certain that THRUSH didn't capture him?"

Illya sighed, "THRUSH, as you are well aware, has a large number of egomaniacs on the Central Committee. If they had captured the great Napoleon Solo, someone would have bragged to _someone _and there has been no 'chatter' whatsoever. I did not call you for help before because so many agents and agencies were searching for him and I did not invite you to the memorial because, because…well because I do not believe he is dead, Wolf! I would know it if he were; I believe I would sense it. I am the _only _one who knows he is alive and out there, somewhere."

"No, you're not, Illya. I believe you. Tell me: What do you plan to do with the money? I assume you want to pay people to continue looking for your partner."

"Yes." The Russian swallowed the last of the vodka and turned the glass in his hand before putting it on the coffee table. _I should have brought the bottle in here._

"Illya," Wolf was saying, "Do you still trust me?"

Pulling his thoughts away from the bottle, he responded, "You know I do, yes."

Wolf exhaled loudly. "Good," he replied, "Then, allow me to do this for you. As CEA, you cannot devote all your time to searching for Napoleon. I have kept in touch with, shall we say, former _associates _of Ludwig Bowler who, for a fee, will do just about anything asked of them. Napoleon Solo is alive and somewhere in the world and somebody knows _something._ He will be found. Do not worry."

Illya felt humbled to know that Wolf was willing to do this for him. "But, Wolf," he asked, "Are you not concerned that your…_associates_ might betray you to THRUSH? You cannot take that chance."

Deep rolling laughter came through the phone. "Illya," Wolf said, "all my interactions with these people will be by mail, telegram, cables, and telephone. We will never meet in person. They will be paid enough money not to discuss Wolf Schmidt with anyone. I will get reports at a PO Box in another town and I will arrange for Eddie Case to receive the same reports at a PO Box in Manhattan."

"I do not know what to say, Wolf. Thank you sounds so…inadequate. I owe you for this."

"Thank you is quite sufficient and you owe me nothing. We are family; this is what we do for each other. I'll be in touch. Goodbye." The phone clicked in Illya's ear.

He put the receiver back on the cradle, picked up his glass and walked into the kitchen. As he poured himself another drink, he thought, _That _is_ what we are; family._

*ref. "Miracles, Love and Promises"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III

Illya strode into Lisa Rogers' office on Monday morning. "Good morning, Miss Rogers," he said brightly.

"Good morning to _you_, Mr. Kuryakin. You may go right in; he is expecting you." She watched him pass through the pneumatic door and thought, _It's good to see him not looking so depressed. The memorial service must have been cathartic for him._

Mr. Waverly looked up from the file he had been reading when Illya entered the room. "Good morning, Mr. Kuryakin. Do sit down." He watched as the Russian nodded and went to his usual seat. _He still thinks of the seat to his right as Mr. Solo's. _"You requested to see me this morning. What can I do for you?"

"Good morning, Sir. I wanted to inform you that I have been in contact with my brother – in – law, Wolf Schmidt, regarding Napoleon's disappearance. As you know, he has been overseeing the Swiss bank accounts that belonged to his sister, Luba. He has agreed to take over the search for Napoleon using his resources and that money so that I can concentrate fully on my duties. I…did not wish for there to be any kind of misunderstanding." He remembered how incensed The Old Man had been to discover that his Number Two agent had broken protocol and lied by omission by failing to disclose the fact that he not only had married but, married the sister of a former THRUSH official. He was fortunate that Mr. Waverly had not terminated him and returned him to the Soviet Union for his deceitfulness. He dared not keep anything from him now.

UNCLE New York's Number One stared at the young man who sat before him with a face that had been carefully schooled into an expressionless countenance. Inwardly, he sighed, both in relief and frustration. Relief that his newly minted Chief Enforcement Agent would live up to his responsibilities and frustration that Mr. Kuryakin was still holding on to the notion that his partner was alive. _Well, _he thought, _it is his money after all and if Mr. Schmidt is willing to undertake this endeavor, why should I interfere? _"Mr. Kuryakin, I liken this search for Mr. Solo akin to the search for the Holy Grail but, since you will not be in charge of it, you have my blessing to finance it. And, on the off chance that I am wrong and Mr. Solo is found alive, I will use all of my resources, if necessary, to bring him home. Tell Mr. Schmidt I wish him luck."

"I will, Sir, and thank you."

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Weeks came and went; Illya had settled into a routine. Every Thursday, he went to the General Post Office on 34th Street and 8th Avenue to check Eddie Case's PO Box. Every week, there would be a large yellow envelope that contained status reports from all the operatives, agents and mercenaries that either Wolf had employed or they had hired to assist them in the search. Every Saturday evening, he and Wolf would discuss the reports on the phone and strategize where to focus the search next.

True to his word, Wolf had used money to spread a net of free agents around the globe starting in the last place Napoleon was known to be, Algeria. He had sent hundreds of photos of Napoleon and surveillance photos of Leopold to operatives to hand out plus artists' renditions of what both men would look like in various disguises. No tip was ever ignored; no expense was ever too much; all Wolf demanded were results. Slowly, ever so slowly, the bits and pieces of information began to gel and make sense.

This particular Saturday, Illya had been busy running errands and stopped for shrimp lo mein from his favorite Chinatown restaurant. He stopped at his apartment to make sure everything was secure and then proceeded on to Napoleon's where he proceeded to spread his meal out on the kitchen counter along with that week's reports. He usually went over each report with a fine – tooth comb before calling Wolf to discuss them. He had just settled in to read and eat when the phone rang.

Sucking a shrimp and some noodles into his mouth, he reached over to snatch the phone from the wall. "Hello?" He recognized Wolf's excited voice immediately.

"Illya! I knew it; I called your place first. Do you have the report? Look on page 27; I think there is something there!"

The Russian picked the report up and quickly flipped through the pages. "OK, I have it. 'Los Angeles, Chile: Two white males fitting the descriptions of Arnold Leopold and Napoleon Solo were spotted last Monday the 30th.' So what, Wolf; there have been sightings like this before that have led to nothing and besides, Napoleon and Leopold were last seen in Algeria, Africa. What makes you think this sighting in South America has any validity?"

"On page 16, one of my operative's contacts reports that Dr. Leopold had a lab in Punta Arenas, which is the southernmost point of Chile. It is possible that somehow, the two of them are there."

"This guy who wrote the report is a stickler for detail. Look what he says: 'The man who resembles Napoleon Solo's description sported a short beard and collar – length hair and seemed remarkably well kempt and cool despite the heat and humidity. He did not appear to be under any duress or stress but, seemed to be extremely obedient to the male resembling Arnold Leopold.' Illya, I think this is the best lead we've come across. I think somehow, Leopold was able to slip this mind control drug to Napoleon and that is why he has not attempted to contact UNCLE. I want to pull our resources from Europe and Africa to concentrate our efforts on the area between Los Angeles, Chile to the north and Puntas Arenas to the south."

"I agree. Napoleon being under the influence of this drug would explain a lot. The sooner we can get more eyes in that area, the sooner we will find him." The Russian was daring to feel optimistic; so many other leads had proven to be fruitless. Illya picked up his chopsticks in preparation for resuming his meal. "Promise me this, Wolf; if this pans out, do not attempt a rescue yourself; call me so I can organize a rescue team. I do not want you compromising your new identity; Ludwig Bowler is dead and must remain so."

"Do not worry, Brother – in – law, I have no interest in re – entering The Game. Once they locate him, how Napoleon gets extracted I leave to you. If you want my operatives' help, let me know and we will work something out. In the meantime, I will instruct my people to narrow the search to the parameters we discussed as soon as I hang up from you. I believe this nightmare is coming to an end."

"I hope so, Wolf. Goodbye," Illya said before hanging up. _I really hope so._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

Illya sat in his lab staring through his microscope at his latest experiment or, at least that was what he kept telling himself. He was working on a new veridical and had mixed it with a blood sample and was supposed to be paying attention to how it was affecting the cells. Unfortunately, his mind kept wandering away from the task at hand to wonder about the status of the search for Napoleon. _There are a thousand miles between Los Angeles and Puntas Arenas, Chile. There are agents and mercenaries fanned out from border to border looking for anyone matching the descriptions of Napoleon Solo and Arnold Leopold. There are two agents on twelve hours shifts stationed at President Ibanez Airport in Puntas Arenas. It has been two days; why have I not heard anything?_

He sighed loudly. _Maybe I should go back to the office; I am not accomplishing anything here. _Though truth be told, there wasn't much for him to accomplish there, either.Unlike his partner, Illya _was _good with paperwork. He had reviewed and signed off on all the agents' status reports, expense reports and requisitions. All the performance evaluations for his probationary Section II agents were completed and awaiting The Old Man's signature. Illya Kuryakin might not be the charming, charismatic leader of Section II that Napoleon Solo was but, Mr. Waverly did not have to pin him down to get his reports and, he also had the loyalty and respect of his agents because they knew he would not order them to do something that he would not.

He had been keeping Mr. Waverly apprised of the progress of the search for Napoleon. Mr. Waverly had, to his surprise, authorized Wolf Schmidt to have a modified pen communicator sent to him that only connected to Illya and Mr. Waverly himself.

He exited his lab and, on impulse, headed to the Commissary for a cup of coffee. Just as he finished paying the cashier, his special communicator chirped. Immediately, he opened it and responded, "Kuryakin" as he walked quickly to the stairs to avoid curious ears in the elevator. "Wolf, has he been found?"

"They were spotted, Illya. This Dr. Leopold is taking no chances. My understanding is that he still believes Napoleon is a THRUSH agent and they were trying to steal his research. So, to avoid unfriendly birds, he decided not to fly out of Los Angeles and instead, they drove south from Los Angeles to Teniente Gallardo Airport where the doctor chartered a small plane to take them to Rio Gallegos International Airport in Argentina where they think he will either rent another car or catch the bus that goes to Chile. The assumption now is that he is making a straight run to Puntas Arenas."

The Russian stepped out of the stairwell onto his floor and moved swiftly to his office. The door swished open for him and he sat at his desk where he pulled a large Atlas from his bottom drawer. "Yes, yes, I see it! A highway called the Paso Integracion Austral runs directly between the two cities. It looks to be a five hour drive or bus ride."

"It can be as long as eight hours depending on the weather as there is a rough patch of road that stretches about sixty miles. Question: Do you want my team to intercept them?"

Illya wanted nothing more than to have his partner rescued and returned safely to New York but…_That would leave us still not knowing about those weapons the doctor had bragged about to Napoleon. _"When exactly was the last time one of your operatives had eyes on Leopold and Napoleon? In what condition did Napoleon appear to be? Did he appear injured?"

"Not according to my reports," Wolf replied. "Both men seemed to be in good shape; well fed and hydrated. That was the case when they were seen on the way to the Chilean airport twelve hours ago. It takes five hours to fly to the airport in Argentina. A few thousand pesos in the right hands got five of my men on a flight that departed for Rios Gallegos fifteen minutes after Leopold's chartered plane. They have quite a bit of luggage; my men do not. They should be able to get to the car rental counter just before Napoleon and Leopold and follow them regardless of what means of transportation they use. They have instructions to continue surveillance and under no circumstances are they to engage unless I provide new instructions."

Illya pulled out the small suitcase he kept under his desk at the ready and said, "I am going up to see Mr. Waverly and then I am on my way to Puntas Arenas. Tell your men that when they have determined where Leopold's lab is, they should pass that information to you immediately and then return to Rio Gallegos to await further instructions. I will contact you as soon as I get there."

Wolf's snort could be heard through the phone. "Somehow, that is what I thought you would say."

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

"Mr. Kuryakin, UNCLE and I owe you and your brother – in – law our most heartfelt thanks and I owe you an apology. I was wrong to doubt you." Mr. Waverly was puffing on his pipe as he sat at the conference table opposite his CEA. "Are you certain you do not want a Strike Team to accompany you?"

Illya momentarily fingered the vial he had gotten from his lab before going to see The Old Man. He lifted his chin and stated, "I am sure, Mr. Waverly. Puntas Arenas is remote enough and small enough that so many strangers would only arouse suspicion and cause people to talk. I do not want to tip off Dr. Leopold and cause him to run or harm Napoleon. If Napoleon is still under the influence of the mind control drug, he may not recognize me. He may fight me. I will need to find the antidote, destroy the lab, bring in Dr. Leopold and get us out of Chile. It will be, as Napoleon says, 'a piece of cake.'"

Mr. Waverly smiled around his pipe at his agent's bravado and said, "I hope that you are right, Mr. Kuryakin. Good luck to you."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V

Illya raised his binoculars and surveyed the building a block away on Jorge Monte Street. He was on the roof of the Hospedaje Costenera, a Bed and Breakfast located on Romulo Correa just outside the tourist zone of Puntas Arenas. When he had landed at Ibanez Airport eighteen hours earlier, he had contacted Wolf who informed him that Dr. Leopold and Napoleon had been followed to 443 Jorge Monte. He had found the B&B when he asked his cab driver where he could find an inexpensive place to stay not too far from the cemetery which he knew was not far from Dr. Leopold's building. It was pure luck that it was close enough for Illya to conduct surveillance from the roof. A few extra pesos given to the owner persuaded him to allow the strange foreigner to "bird – watch" undisturbed.

Wolf had assured him that his men still reported that Napoleon looked unharmed; so the Russian decided that he had time to gather intelligence about this location. It appeared from the outside to be a warehouse of some kind leading him to believe that the doctor's lab was indeed inside and since neither man had reappeared since entering, he assumed there were living quarters there as well. He had observed food delivery men come and go but, neither he nor Wolf's men saw anyone resembling security. _After all this time, is it really going to be as simple as walking in and bringing him out? Perhaps some of Napoleon's luck is rubbing off on me._

Mentally, he shrugged. His naturally pessimistic nature took the idea of Solo's luck with a grain of salt. He knew there was no way he could accomplish his mission without confronting this man and that was a variable he couldn't begin to factor. The other variable he couldn't work out was Napoleon himself. He had to assume that he was under the influence of Leopold's mind control pill. _I do not like having to work with assumptions instead of facts but, I do not have much choice._

He checked his watch; it was almost eight PM. If they were sticking to take – out, there should be a deliveryman arriving at the door soon. Illya left the roof and stopped in his room to pick up his backup ankle pistol, the vial of the new veridical he had developed and both of his communicators. He exited the B&B and walked down the street until he reached an alley two doors down from 443. He picked up a rock and broke the street lamp that illuminated it, leaned against the wall just inside the alley and waited.

Fifteen minutes later, a car with the Lomit's American Sandwich Shoppe logo pulled up in front of Leopold's building. As the young man got out of the car with a small shopping bag full of food, Illya came out of the alley. The deliveryman had no idea what hit him when he was darted. The Russian caught him quickly, put him back in his car, drove it around the corner, grabbed the food and jumped out. He took a few steps and then came back to the car and placed the correct amount of pesos plus a very generous tip into the guy's shirt pocket.

He pulled his gun from his holster, rang the doorbell and hid the gun in the pocket of his jacket. An eye appeared in the door's peephole. "_Quien es?"_

Illya responded, "Lomit's!" When the door opened, he put his gun eye – level to the man on the inside. "Dr. Leopold, I presume?" he asked quietly. "Move away from the door, please." He stepped inside and closed and locked the door. He waved his gun in the direction of the lights. "Act like nothing is wrong. Take the bag and walk ahead of me."

Illya trailed the man into what turned out to be an eat – in kitchen. Napoleon was sitting at the table with his hands clasped together softly on his lap. His eyes appeared glazed over and he seemed unaware of his surroundings. As they moved farther into the room, Leopold suddenly shouted, "Maurice, help me!"

Napoleon stood up immediately and took the bag of food from the man and set it on the table. He then stood next to the table staring at them both.

"No, you _idiot! _I mean…" He was cut off by Illya's Walther jabbing him in the ribs.

"Quiet!" Illya used his gun and head to indicate to Leopold he should sit at the table and the doctor complied silently. He allowed his gaze to shift momentarily to the man still standing next to the table. _Leopold called him Maurice._ Gently, he said, "You may sit down, also." Napoleon stood as if made of stone. Illya glared at Leopold. "What is wrong with him? What did you _do _to him?"

The doctor exhaled loudly and rubbed his forehead with his right hand. "Sit down, Maurice." Napoleon went back to the chair he had been occupying when they walked in and sat. "Maurice, do you know this man?"

Napoleon stared hard at Illya. "Yes," he answered.

"What is his name?"

Napoleon's eyebrows knit together as if he were thinking very hard. Finally, he looked away from Illya and down at his shoes. "I don't know," he replied.

Dr. Leopold sighed exasperatedly. "No, of course you don't." He shook his head as if to clear it. "You can tell your THRUSH compatriots that they wasted their time trying to steal the prototype and research. Unless they want mindless slave labor, my mind control pill is an abject failure."

Illya relaxed his gun hand; it seemed the doctor did not present a threat at the moment. "Explain."

Leopold shrugged. "I might as well. When Mr. Chandler here suggested that I accompany him, I had a feeling he was up to no good but, I didn't let on. I said that I would and we continued to enjoy our meal. When he excused himself to go to the men's room, I slipped a pill into his drink. He was my first human subject. Imagine my surprise when he finished his drink and nothing happened!"

"We left the restaurant and headed back to my hotel to gather up my things. We went downstairs and got into a cab. When the driver asked where to, your friend said nothing. I turned to look at him and he looked…well, he looked like _that."_

"At first, I was thrilled to know my pill worked. My original plan was to get the money your people had deposited for me out of the Cayman Islands into my own account and send him back to your masters with a message that I no longer wished to do business with them. But then, I discovered two things: One, there _was_ no money and two, my mind control pill has one major drawback."

"As I'm sure you've noticed, Mr. Chandler does not respond to you; only to me. That is very good but, unfortunately, he will only do what he is told."

Illya pulled a chair away from the table and sat down. "Is that not what you wanted?"

"I wanted to control an _intelligent _mind! I don't know what he was like before but, I doubt it was like this! Now, he is like an obedient, mentally challenged child. All he knows is what I tell him. If I don't tell him to eat or drink, he won't. He does whatever I say but, if I am not clear…"

Illya smiled, "He takes the food from you instead of attacking me. Forgive me if I do not share your sadness." He studied Napoleon a moment. "He has been under the influence of that one pill for more than four months?"

"No, he takes a pill once a day. Theoretically, he would return to his former state if he stopped taking the pills." He looked wistfully at the bag on the table. "He has not eaten since noon. Do you mind if we…?"

"No, go ahead."

Dr. Leopold stood and proceeded to pull out a sandwich that he unwrapped and placed in front of Napoleon. "Eat." As Napoleon picked up his food, Leopold placed a can of soda next to him. "Drink that, too."

Leopold could see out of the corner of his eye that the intruder was watching Chandler closely. He reached back into the bag and grabbed the container that held the Chilean hot pepper sauce known as _pebre,_ removed the lid and managed to throw it into the blond's eyes. As the man yelped in pain and surprise, he grabbed his gun away, called for Maurice to hold him down and used his and Maurice's belts to tie him to a chair.

"So," he gasped out, "it would seem the tables have been turned."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI

Illya's eyes were still burning terribly and tears ran down his face as Dr. Leopold and Napoleon calmly ate their dinner. The doctor had poured two glasses full of water over the Russian's eyes to wash them out. "I don't want you going blind," he said, "I think perhaps Maurice is defective. I need another subject to test that theory. Thanks to this unexpected turn of events, it seems that will be _you_, Mr…What _is _your name, anyway? Formal introductions were never made."

"My name is…" Illya stopped himself. He was going to say "None of your business" but, he felt he needed to start trying to jog Napoleon's memory. "My name is Tovarisch. _Illya _Tovarisch." Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Napoleon blink in recognition, but he wasn't sure. The burning had faded a bit and he was able to think more clearly.

_This man is obviously an amateur and he is in The Game way over his head. He has not searched me, he still thinks Napoleon is the THRUSH operative he was impersonating and he has given me insight into how to reverse Napoleon's condition. He is a fool but, he could be dangerous. I have _got _to figure out an escape for Napoleon and me. If he drugs me, he may no longer feel the need to keep Napoleon alive to study. If I do not check in with Wolf in five hours, he will know something is wrong and probably send his men back to investigate. Too late; it could be too late!_

"Very well, Mr. Tovarisch, this is what is going to happen," Dr. Leopold said as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I am leaving Maurice here to keep you company while I go downstairs to my lab. I have some things to do first before I get around to you. When I come back upstairs, it will be time for Maurice to take his pill and you will take one, too. The first theory I'll be testing is whether or not taking the pill on an empty stomach causes the pill to take effect faster. Oh, by the way; don't expect a lot of conversation from him; he's not very talkative." He chuckled at his own joke and went to a door that Illya assumed let to the basement and the lab. He closed the door behind him and moved heavily down the stairs.

The Russian shook his head, not knowing whether the man's ineptness would prove to be a blessing or a curse in the long run. He did know that the answer to that question depended largely on his getting through to Napoleon. _If there is a Higher Power as Napoleon believes, please let the medication level in his system be low enough for me to get through to him. _ When he felt comfortable that Leopold was reasonably out of hearing range, he spoke softly to the man who had finished his meal and was sitting with his hands clasped on the table. "Your name is not Maurice Chandler; your name is Napoleon Reilly Solo. You are the Chief Enforcement Agent for the United Network Command for Law Enforcement, UNCLE. I am your partner, Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin. I am more than your partner, Napoleon; I am your best friend. I am your _brother._ Listen to me. _Look at me, Napoleon!" _The man did not move but, this time Illya was sure something akin to recognition fluttered across his face.

"We do not have much time, Napoleon! Leopold will be back here soon enough and if he medicates both of us, we will be lost. Napoleon, you told Leopold that you know me and it is true; you do. My name is Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin and I have been looking for you for months! Napoleon!"

Illya watched as Napoleon's head moved slightly and he looked Illya full in the face. "Illya? I…do know you." He looked away again. "My name _is_ Napoleon. I know that. Why does he call me Maurice?"

The blond would have leapt for joy if he were not tied to the chair. _It is not time to celebrate yet! _"Listen to me; we do not have much time. Come here quickly!" When Napoleon slid the chair out from under him, Illya hissed, "Quietly!" When he did, Illya said, "Reach into my pants pocket and pull out the vial. Good. See how there is a needle in it? Unscrew the cap, carefully grasp the needle and push the broad end into the cap and re – screw the cap." Normally, he would have never have spoken to Napoleon so condescendingly but, he could not afford to assume that Napoleon remembered enough to complete the task without instructions. Napoleon obediently put together the crude hypodermic needle.

"Hold it upside – down, Napoleon, until a drop or two comes out. Good, good. Listen, go sit down again and fold your hands together between your thighs so that Leopold cannot see it. Now, I will try to keep his attention focused on me. When his back is to you, jab him in the butt with it. Do you understand? Napoleon?"

For the first time in months, he saw Napoleon's smile. "Yes, I understand." Just then, they heard footfalls coming closer and starting to ascend the stairs. Napoleon wiped the smile off his face and resumed the posture he had when the doctor had left them.

"Well," Dr. Leopold said as he came through the door, "I'm sorry to have stayed away so long. I trust you were able to entertain yourself, Mr. Tovarisch?"

Illya noted he appeared to be holding something in his hand. "What is that you have there?"

Leopold opened his hand to show the Russian two pills. "These? Oh, these are the pills you and Mr. Chandler are going to take."

Illya nodded, "I see. Well, if you intend to give me that, may I request water to go with it? My throat is very dry." _I do not think Leopold has even glanced at Napoleon._

The doctor moved to get a glass from a cabinet and ran some tap water. "I don't see why not. I was checking my notes downstairs and I think giving you this on an empty stomach is the right thing to do." He filled the glass and walked back past Napoleon who let his eyes follow him. He held out the hand holding the pills to drop one into Illya's mouth and three things happened. Illya threw himself back violently so that his chair fell and took him to the floor which caused Dr. Leopold to lose his balance as he dropped the glass and leaned forward in an attempt to grab Illya just as Napoleon came out of his seat and stabbed his protruding behind.

He whirled around in shock and shrieked, "Maurice, what are you doing? What, what…" As he began to feel weak – kneed and dizzy and his eyes began to lose focus, he was astonished to hear the man he had been manipulating for four and a half months snarl, "My name is _Napoleon!"_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VII

Leopold sank into the chair Napoleon had pulled behind him. Giving him a wide berth, Napoleon moved to Illya, loosened the belts around his legs and arms and pulled him upright. Illya fought the urge to hug him. Instead, he gave Napoleon a smile so big his cheeks hurt as he used the belts to secure the man who had been their captor.

"It has been months but, we still work well as a team!" he said proudly. "You injected him with a new truth serum I developed. Let us see how well it works." The Russian turned his attention to the scientist bound to a chair. "Dr. Leopold, can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"How many other weapons do you have in your lab?"

"None."

Illya furrowed his eyebrows in consternation. "You told this man before you drugged him that you had several new weapons under development in your lab. Where are they?"

Illya watched Leopold begin to blush. "Well I…was exaggerating. I have _ideas _for new weaponry but, I don't have the funding to bring them to reality. I wanted THRUSH to finance my work but, instead, you tried to steal my mind control drug!"

Illya shook his head in disbelief. _Bozhe moi, how has this man managed to live so long? "_How many labs, work areas and storage facilities do you have?"

"Just this one," he said shrugging his shoulders, "I was going to use some of the money to expand."

"How many more pills do you have in your lab?"

"There are eleven left; I was going to make more tomorrow."

Illya took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. He had no idea how long the doctor would remain under the influence; the delivery of the drug into his system was not exactly optimum or usual. He had to go inspect the lab himself but, he wanted to get answers while he could. "Does anyone work with you or have copies of your research?"

"I work alone. There are copies of my notes in a safe located on the far wall of the lab. The safe is unlocked at the moment."

_Good, _Illya thought, _I guess that is all I can hope to know. _He looked at Napoleon who during the interrogation had been sitting quietly watching everything. A disturbing thought occurred to him and he turned back to ask one last question. "Dr. Leopold, did you at any time beat, abuse or molest this man in any way?"

To his credit, the man appeared to be shocked by the question. "Absolutely not! He was a subject in my experiment. I took care of him and observed him and his responses. That is _all _I did." Illya was relieved to see Napoleon nod agreement with the man's statements.

Illya double – checked the restraints that held Leopold and satisfied that he could leave him unattended for a little while, he caught Napoleon by the arm and said, "Come with me." They walked down the stairs to the lab and Illya asked, "Napoleon, how are you feeling?"

The taller man went over to a seat and flopped into it. "I don't know; everything is jumbled together. I keep…I don't know." His head dropped dejectedly into his hands. Illya stopped searching the lab for a moment to try to comfort his partner.

"I am sorry, Napoleon, that I have not been able to focus on you or the fact that you are fighting that drug in your system. Just a few minutes more is all I need to collect Leopold's research and the pills. _Попытайтесь расслабиться, мой друг; Мы очень скоро покинет_. Sorry, I said…"

"You told me to relax; I didn't catch everything, though. I know how to speak Russian?"

Illya smiled, "You understand it better than you speak it." He reached into his pocket and retrieved his communicator. "Open Channel D, please. Priority One."

Mr. Waverly's clipped British tones came through the pen – like device. "Mr. Kuryakin; I trust you have located Mr. Solo and Dr. Leopold's lab?"

"Yes, Sir, I have but, Dr. Leopold misrepresented himself; he has ideas for weapons but, no prototypes. I am checking his lab to bring back his research and development papers plus the mind control pill Sir, I am very concerned about Napoleon. He needs to get back to New York to Medical."

"Then it is a very good thing that I have been in contact with Number One, UNCLE South America. Mr. Escobar dispatched agents from Santiago hours ago; in fact, you should be expecting them within the hour."

The Russian felt like a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders. "That is wonderful news, Mr. Waverly, thank you. May I suggest that those agents detain Dr. Leopold for debriefing in Santiago? Perhaps he can be persuaded to work for us; he is still under the impression that Napoleon and I are THRUSH."

"Is he now? That gives me an idea, Mr. Kuryakin. Finish what you are doing and make sure you and Mr. Solo are out of there no later than 10PM."

"Yes, Sir."

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Word had spread like wildfire throughout UNCLE New York HQ that Napoleon Solo had been found alive by Illya Kuryakin at the bottom of the planet. Like all great gossip, the story did not slow down for lack of details; whatever was not known was made up and added as fact. What _was_ known was that Mr. Waverly had arranged for the two men to hitch a ride with a US Navy transport flight as far as San Diego, California and now the agents were on a TWA flight due to land at Kennedy airport in fifteen minutes.

When the agent assigned to meet them communicated to Miss Rogers they were in the vehicle and their ETA at HQ was in forty – five minutes, that news caused two thirds of the secretarial pool to suddenly have business on the floor leading to the agents' entrance through Del Floria's. Unfortunately for them, ten minutes before Solo and Kuryakin came down the tailor shop steps, Illya had contacted Acting CEA April Dancer to say that Napoleon had a powerful drug in his system and he did not want the man to be overwhelmed upon entering HQ. When she and her partner, Mark Slate, and every other Section II agent in the building entered the hallway, one warning glare from her convinced the support staff that this was a Section II celebration not to be shared with them and they cleared the area immediately.

Illya and Napoleon exited the car in front of Del Floria's, came down the steps and through the door. Agent Del Floria smiled broadly at both of them and used his steam press to signal their arrival. Illya turned the hook and pushed the door open into Reception. "Welcome back, gentlemen!" Denise Raymond, the receptionist on duty gushed as she pinned Napoleon's badge on him and handed Illya his. Napoleon smiled shyly in return.

The hallway door slid open to reveal April and Mark standing before them with both sides of the hall lined with agents. April beamed at them and said, "Welcome home. Mr. Waverly is waiting for both of you in Medical." She moved to one side of them and Mark the other side. They began to applaud as Illya and Napoleon moved past them and the applause was picked up until all the agents were clapping and cheering and they didn't stop until the partners entered the elevator.

"Are you alright?" Illya rubbed his partner's back to calm him.

Napoleon nodded. "So much is missing though things are starting to come back. I recognized April immediately but, all those people…not really"

"Do not worry; I have Leopold's research plus as the drug weakens, your memory will return. I am certain of it. It was fortunate that you could not remember anything about UNCLE; we do not have to worry about the organization being compromised."

Mr. Waverly and Dr. Jameson greeted them as soon as they walked into Medical. "Mr. Solo, you will remain here until given a clean bill of health. It is good to have you back. I and indeed, all of UNCLE owe your partner and his brother – in – law a huge debt of gratitude."

A look of confusion flitted across Napoleon's face but, then it vanished. "Wolf Schmidt, right?"

"That Is correct, Mr. Solo. Mr. Kuryakin refused to believe you were dead. He contacted Mr. Schmidt who took over the search so that your partner could devote himself to his CEA duties. He contacted us when you had been sighted and you know the rest."

Dr. Jameson stepped up and said, "Mr. Waverly, please. Mr. Solo needs to be examined and put on bed rest. There will be time to speak with him when he is one hundred percent."

The Old Man harrumphed. "Right you are, Dr. Mr. Kuryakin, you may stay with Mr. Solo for the time being; I'll expect a report in two days."

Illya asked, "Sir, may I speak with you privately a moment?" When Mr. Waverly nodded affirmatively, Illya walked outside the medical unit with him. "If you do not mind, would you please tell me what happened after Napoleon and I left Dr. Leopold's lab?"

Chuckling softly, Mr. Waverly said, "Dr. Leopold was 'rescued' from certain harm at THRUSH's hands when five UNCLE agents stormed in and drove you two away. He was so grateful; he agreed readily to go to work for us in UNCLE Santiago in Argentina."

The Russian laughed out loud, "I think Napoleon and I need to stay out of South America for awhile."

Mr. Waverly raised one eyebrow. "Indeed. Go see to your partner and give Mr. Schmidt my thanks when you speak with him."


	8. Chapter 8

Epilogue

_Four Months Later_

Illya was in his office reading and signing off on the last mission reports he had to review as Chief Enforcement Agent. Napoleon had been out on medical leave since returning to New York from South America. He had passed his psychological, easily qualified on the firing range and just that morning, had gone to The Local Proving Grounds and been declared physically fit to return to duty.* He was returning to work on Monday and taking the CEA mantle off Illya's shoulders to put back on his own. Illya couldn't wait to have his partner and senior agent sitting across the desk from him again.

His communicator chirped just as he placed the last report in his Out box. Putting it together quickly, he responded, "Kuryakin."

"Illya, you are still coming to my house for dinner, correct?" Napoleon's voice sounded confident and self – assured again. All his memories seemed to have returned intact and there were no long – lasting effects from the mind control pill.

"I am; in fact, I am leaving here in," he glanced quickly at his watch, "twenty minutes. Is there anything you want me to bring?"

"Yes, could you stop at that German deli on 2nd Avenue and pick up some potato salad and Carlsberg beer? I made pork chops and sauerkraut and I've got pumpernickel bread to go with it."

"Sounds wonderful. I did not know you could cook German food, Napoleon."

Napoleon laughed out loud. "Crazy Russian! Heating sauerkraut, eating store – bought potato salad and baked pork chops does not a German chef make. It's cold tonight so I thought I would make a 'stick to your ribs' kind of meal. I'll see you when you get here."

An hour later, Illya entered Napoleon's building loaded down with the items requested plus a Black Forest cake that had caught his attention. He got off the elevator on the penthouse floor just as Napoleon, alerted by the doorman of Illya's arrival, opened the door. "Perfect timing, Tovarisch; my other dinner guest got here ten minutes ago. Pour yourself a drink and keep him company while I put everything together."

Illya was taken slightly aback but, said nothing. He went to the freezer, grabbed his vodka and poured three fingers' worth into a glass. _We'll start drinking seriously after dinner. _He went down the hall and walked down the two steps into the living room. A man stood looking out the window at the city lights. At the sound of Illya entering the room, he turned around. "Hello, Brother – in – Law," Wolf said as he crossed the room and hugged the Russian and kissed him on both cheeks.

Surprised but, happily so, Illya hugged him back. Stepping away, he said, "When I spoke to you last week, you said nothing about coming to New York!"

"I was not planning to but, Napoleon called and invited me to spend the weekend. Eunice and I flew into JFK together and she headed up to Plattsburgh to visit her cousin. I promised her I would tell you hi for her and you really have to come visit us in Colorado or I may never have another 'boys' weekend' again."

"It's a deal," Napoleon said as he walked into the room with his drink and a bottle of vodka. He freshened Illya's drink and went to the bar where he grabbed the decanter of scotch and topped of Wolf's glass. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Gentlemen, I have something to say to Wolf now that we're all together. Wolf, I said this to you on the phone but, I think it needs saying face to face: Thank you for believing Illya and taking over the search when you did. You and Illya saved my life. I will never forget it."

Illya chimed in, "I will never forget it either, Wolf. I know many people but, I have only trusted and loved three. One was my beloved wife and the other two…" Illya swallowed hard and continued, "are you. Wolf, I trusted you with Napoleon's life and you did not fail me. You are both my friends _and _my family."

Wolf smiled and raised his glass. "Friends and family," he repeated, "Life is a surprising journey, isn't it? I could never have envisioned this happening but, it did and I am the better for it. I propose a toast: To friends and family; we have both as long as we have each other!"

Illya and Napoleon raised their glasses and their voices. "Hear, hear!" they replied before clinking their glasses against Wolf's and drinking deeply.

Napoleon announced, "Dinner is ready! Let's head to the dining room."

"_Da,_ I am ready to eat."

Wolf laughed and clapped the Russian on the shoulder. "Don't ever change, Illya."

*ref. to "Like a Phoenix from Ashes"


End file.
